


Dragons at the Window

by isabeau25



Category: Epic (2013)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 06:43:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4696067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isabeau25/pseuds/isabeau25
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nod and insomnia are not a good combination. Ronin agrees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dragons at the Window

The world blurred around him, and Nod barely understood that he was laying sprawled on the kitchen floor. Different shades of brown and amber ran together, spotted with black, and the occasional burst of starlight. He knew his head was resting in the crook of Ronin’s arm.

“Nod?”

He blinked, making a half-hearted effort to focus on the face hovering above him. It blurred into the wood of the kitchen ceiling, and Ronin’s grey hair became streaks of star fire. He couldn’t pull together the scattered shreds of where he was or why. He was having trouble convincing himself it matter.

His hands shook with exhaustion, but the idea of sleep struck him as absurd. It seemed no more possible than breathing water or flying without wings.

Could he grow wings? Soft brown wings like the colors drifting in front of his eyes. Wren wings. Wren’s could last the winter.

“Nod please,” Ronin begged.

Nod tried again to focus on him. Ronin never begged; something must be wrong. The world had tilted the wrong direction, and Ronin barking orders couldn’t right it. When one thing didn’t work, Ronin tried another.

“You have to sleep,” Ronin’s hand against his cheek was warm, but it didn’t feel like skin, too smooth, ridged where it shouldn’t have been.

Nod lost track of the idea of a hand, replacing it with leaves and summer sun, the wind that made them wave and brush against him in his hiding spot. He lost track of the leaves almost as quickly. They were gone, but Ronin was still there.

“You need to take the sleeping draught,” Ronin’s thumb brushed under his eye, “I promise, I’ll stay with you while you sleep, but you need to take it. You can’t keep going like this.”

Promise, promise, no take backs. But the sleeping draught was terrible. It was a dragon slinking through the window, sneaking in while their backs were turned, biting and never letting go.

“I won’t leave, but please, you need to take it,” Ronin pressed his forehead to Nod’s, his breath ghosting over his skin, smelling like roasted beech nut and the hard seed sticks he took his frustration out on when he couldn’t find something else to use.

 _He used to bite his nails as a kid,_ a voice whispered in Nod’s ear, _his dad gave him the seed sticks so he’d have something else to gnaw on when he was upset._

The voice made Nod’s throat close shut and his heart stopped, sitting heavy in his chest like stone.

Did he need to take the sleeping draught if he was dead? Was there any difference between death and sleep?

One dragon lets go; the other doesn’t. He couldn’t remember which was which.

“Please,” Ronin begged again.

Ronin could slay dragons. One type of dragon anyway, but not the other. Which was it Ronin wanted of him?

“Okay,” the word formed somehow, past his closed throat and dead heart.

“I’ll stay,” Ronin repeated.

And Nod believed him.

* * *

Ronin picked his godson up and carried him. There was no point in letting the fifteen year old try to walk. That Nod didn’t even try to protest was worrisome, but everything about Nod was worrisome at the moment.

It had been two weeks since Nod’s mother had died, and probably about that long since the boy had gotten any sleep. He had insisted he was fine for the first week or so, that he had known his mother was dying, that he had gotten used to the idea and there was nothing wrong.

Nod mumbled something about dragons, and Ronin shushed him, laying him in his bed.

“There aren’t any dragons,” he pulled the blankets up around him.

Nod’s eyes drifted away, looking lazily at the ceiling. Ronin sighed softly and sat on the edge of the bed. Nod wasn’t being stubborn. If he could have slept, he would have. He had been in tears a few mornings ago because he had been awake all night again, even with Ronin laying down with him.

He had still refused to take the sleeping draught though. Ronin had brought him down to the healers to get checked out after four days of not sleeping, but Nod had absolutely refused it when it was offered to him by the healers.

“Will you kill them?” Nod asked vaguely.

“Kill what?” Ronin stroked back his hair.

“The dragons,” Nod turned into his hand.

“There aren’t any dragons,” Ronin repeated, “but if they show up, I’ll be here to take care of them.”

He was Nod’s guardian now, and he could have forced the boy to take the sleeping draught, but Nod had had so little control over his life for so long that to take control of this away from him as well had seemed wrong. He knew Nod would come around eventually or pass out.

Actually, he had known Nod would pass out, then come around. The kid never did anything the easy way. He was just glad he had come home for lunch to check on him and been there to stop him from bouncing his thick head off the floor.

Ronin opened the vial that had been sitting on Nod’s nightstand for over a week. He would have to send to the healers for more. He didn’t doubt that Nod would sleep a long time after he took it, but that didn’t mean the insomnia would go away once it wore off.

“Come on,” Ronin slid his arm under Nod’s shoulders, lifting his head, “drink up.”

Ronin held the vial for Nod, not trusting it to the boy’s shaking hands. Nod wrapped his hand around Ronin’s anyway, seeming a little perplexed by the entire thing.

“You’re in uniform,” Nod’s eyes finally focused on him, and he tightened his grip on Ronin’s hand, as if he was trying to stop him.

“Yeah,” Ronin didn’t try to force him to drink the draught, “I’ll take my armor off after you fall asleep.”

It took Nod’s exhaustion addled mind a moment to process that.

“I’m really tired,” he said unhappily.

“I know,” Ronin nodded, “this will help.”

Nod blinked at him, then his eyes unfocused and his grip loosened. Ronin tipped the vial, and Nod drank it without any more protest. Almost at once his eyes began to slide shut, and Ronin lowered him to the bed.

“Ronin?” Nod forced his heavy eyes open, looking up at him, panic creeping into his voice.

“It’s okay,” Ronin set down the vial and started stroking his hair, “I’m here; you’re okay. You can sleep.”

Nod fought against the effects of the draught for a few more minutes before finally succumbing to it and dropping into a heavy sleep. Ronin stayed with him, holding his hand for a while longer. The sleep would help immensely, but Ronin couldn’t fix the things that had caused the insomnia in the first place. He couldn’t bring back either of Nod’s parents, and he couldn’t make losing them hurt any less.

Once the draught took effect and Nod fell asleep, there was no chance of him waking for a good eight hours, although the healers had speculated it could be more like ten. Ronin could have gone back to work for a few hours, and Nod would have never known. He had promised though, and really, he wasn’t eager to leave him.

With a sigh Ronin pushed himself up. He needed to let Finn know he wouldn’t be in for the rest of the afternoon, and there was no point in keeping his armor on if he was staying home.

And after that was taken care of, it looked like he had dragons to guard against.


End file.
